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Holly’s Coffee Shop FF 11/13


The challenge from Rochelle Fields story in 100 words or less.

The prompt, a photo by Dale Rogerson, this week.

Simple? Not so much

The lights were on, silvery glow sparklng on the first snow of winter.

Holly looked up from the board, rolling what must have been the millionth ball of dough.

From the large bowl on the counter, she scoops cinnamon apple filling onto the pastry rounds.

Kel crimped the crust and slid the hand pies into the hot oil.

Toasty brown, sugar glazed into the case, time to open.

The coffee machine roared to life. A smile lit her face.

The doorway crowded with hungry people. Nothing like she’d seen before.

And so, I add the crust for my daughter, Danielle’s fried pies

It’s possible you might wish to try them. they work well fried in oil, or baked. Filling is up to you. Canned from the local store is easy, homemade is delicious

1/4 c butter (this is one time butter is better)

1 c flour

3 Tbsp hot milk

1 egg yolk

Cut butter into flour., combine egg and milk and mix together.

Roll out dough in small portions, get it pretty thin with no holes.

Use 2 tbsp of pie filling for each pie, moisten edges, seal and fry in hot deep fat until crisp and brown.

Glaze

2 Tbsp butter melted

1 Tsp vanilla

2 Tbsp Milk

Enough sifted 10X sugar to make a pourabel glaze

Drizzle over warm pies.

The Pitcher full of blessing


I am thankful for an empty pitcher. I went to fill a glass with tea, only to discover, for the how manyeth time, that it was put back in the fridge with about half an ounce left in it.

While indignantly mulling over this, it came to mind:

I have more tea

There is a clean pot to make it in

In this kitchen, a stove to heat the wonderful fresh well water we are blessed with

And the ice maker works!

On top of all that, there is much food in that refrigerator to keep us going.

So, empty pitcher, you made me consider and think of just how blessed I am with food and drink and very nicely provided for.

All that glitters FF 10/30/20


Every week Friday Fictioneers posts a photo chosen by Rochelle Wisoff Fields. She challenges writers and would be writers to concoct a story in 100 words. The photo comes from J Hardy Carroll, a contributor of stories as well as pictures.

Some weeks a story unfolds quickly, sometimes I can’t come up with an idea.

This week I had a flash of insight:

All That Glitters

Rita shuffled along, pushing the cart that holds all her belongings. Casting her eyes around the street. Looking always for authority figures and trying to avoid them.

The beat cop is headed this way! Rita steps back into a doorway.

Happy Tymes Gym, the door says. She looks in, women sweat, moving to music, stretching, in a world far away.

She opens the door, grabbing four purses and a backpack.

Hidden in a black trash bag she walks down the street,

“Good morning, Officer Freeman.”

“Morning, Rita.”

Down the block and back into her alley hideaway.

100 words

It’s a good day today! Friday Fictioneers


It’s time for the Friday Fictioneers to begin typing for this week.

Rochelle Wisoff Fields https://rochellewisoff.com/ chooses the prompt. This week, a photo from Sandra Crook is the the prompt and the challenge is to complete a story in 100 words.

I scrambled out of the van, adjusting my helmet over the protective suit, grabbing the can of red spray paint.

It didn’t look good, probably another ‘X’ to mark bodies inside. I breathed a sigh, the storm had devastated this island!

Picking my way through debris I called out as I moved sand, seaweed, and gingerly opened the warped door. Inside, a man and wife weakly answered. They had survived!

I got them into the van, an ‘O’ painted on this door, and we headed to the Rescue Operation Station.

Today is a good day!

Can I save anything?


The challenge: A story in 100 words or so, given by Rochelle Wisoff Fields.

The prompt from Roger Bultot.

And my story:

There it was! Tears filled Jolie’s eyes as her heart broke.

Everything! Everything sitting on the sidewalk!, Tina’s highchair, the beds, (such as they were), boxes of food and Tina’s toys, bags of clothes.

In the distance the rumble of heavy equipment and falling debris as demolition began.

If only Darrin was here! He might save some of it!

No one cares about the squatters.

Fog


On an early morning recently, we were out and about at 7:30.

The weatherman had stated that in the direction we had to go there was ‘spotty fog’ and in some places, ‘visibility of 1/10 mile.

Yes, we drove in and out of pockets of fog, sometimes dense, sometimes thin and just a mist and then into clear sunlit space.

Why does she carry on so, you may be askin? Because I found in this fog a similarity to what is going on in my husband’s brain.

The moments of total clarity. ‘We are going to do this.’ ‘ Today is Wednesday’.

The questions that repeat multiple times a day. ‘Where is my (fill in blank)?’ ‘When is our next appointment?’ ‘Did the kids check in yet?’ All of these only to be asked again in 10 minutes.

The fear and frustration when something is totally hidden in the fog. At a restaurant, not being able to find the restroom or return to the table. Unfamiliar places are hard to navigate. Thankfully the staff graciously helped out.

Yes, dementia is a fog. But it will eventually be so heavy and thick the sun may not come through at all.

It’s 2020, what did I expect?


I gotta be really honest. I downsized, and got rid of a lot of things I thought I did not need.

Advancing arthritis and dealing with Hubby’s medical issues, gave me pause in my crafting and quilting. So, by the end 2019 I had gotten rid of most of my crochet and knitting supplies and all the sewing machines except the Singer treadle.

Then I found a new rheumatologist and with new treatment, I can do things I was unable to do in the past few years.

So, at yesterday’s auction, tired of having to do small sewing jobs ‘on my fingers’, I bought a sewing machine. A near new Singer table model. Easier to set up than Aida and with some requests for sewing tutalage, a good $17.00 investment

Yes, It’s 2020 and things are not the same!

Just having two or three for meals, I had really cut down on canning, except a few jars of pickles, tomatoes and the usual jars of jelly and jam.

I had gotten rid of a lot of canning supplies, and this year?

Well, it’s 2020 and I was in need… approximately 6 dozen jars, from 1/2 pint to quart, many with rings and several boxes of flats seemed to feel the need to make a new home on Sunrise Ridge. An absolute bargain!

My true prize for the day, a jadite tea cup, one like my great-grandmother used. Yes, it’s 2020 and I have been looking for this for over 40 years!

Hubby said, “I think you got the better deals”

Third time out Friday Fictioneers


Each week, Rochelle Wisoff Fields gives us a photo prompt, this week it is her own photo, and a challenge to write a story in 100 words or less.

For more information, or to join the party: https://rochellewisoff.com/

Kelly took a deep breath, shifted into reverse, carefully turned the wheel and ever so slowly, backed up.

Almost there, pull forward, , back again, tiny adjustments, nudging the vehicle. Parallel parking! The greatest challenge!

Finally, triumphant, Kelly turned the key, killing the engine.

The intructor shook his head. “Perfect, except you are still about 4 feet from the curb. I have to fail you”.

Tears filled Kelly’s eyes, would she ever get that license?

The Spider and the Flag


This morning, as dawn’s early light was climbing Sunrise Ridge, I took myself and my coffee to the porch. Meditation time, away from the distractions inside.

Today, Old Glory was twisted into an odd configuration, especially since there was no breeze.

Closer inspection showed a spider had woven the flag into its web during the night.

I left it alone, some spiders can carry a nasty bite, until better light prevailed.

After ‘good daylight’, I went out again, the web seemed deserted. I flipped the flag attempting to pull it away from the sticky strands.

A large spider, with gray and yellow stripes sped up the web to the rafters!

As the flag opened, I knew it was a lady, for there in the folds was her egg sac.

Have I been visited by some of the famed Charlotte’s descendants? Am I responsible for the next generation of spiders?

Wonders never cease


This morning, we did not have the usual hassles over blood sugar testing, oxygen sats and blood pressure.

Even more surprising to me was the request, after the oxygen sat reading, to set up his supplemental oxygen.

Withing minutes of this and the use of the oft complained (“This doesn’t help”) inhalers, the oxygen sats were up well above the 87% he started this morning with.

I will rejoice and be glad! How long will it last? Maybe, but I’m thankful for now.